Sincerely Spurious
by Micky Moon
Summary: AU: She decides to set aside her bookworm ways and team up with an incurable siscon in order to capture the heart of the school's heartthrob. It's easier said than done though. —Jibril/Sora
1. cracks in her wonderland

_one: cracks in her wonderland_

"This document is so factually inaccurate!"

The seventeen year old threw the stapled packet of paper across her room, causing sheets to fly everywhere in several directions. She knew she should care that a teacher had put together articles about human behavior with time, care, and effort but she sure as hell didn't want to. Not because of the fact that it was around twenty pages long and the teacher gave her class only that night to complete the reading—the girl _loved, embraced_ the challenge; it was because the facts were greatly misused and proved an otherwise point of view, _her_ point of view.

Jibril Flugel hated reading ineffective material, despite her immense love for knowledge.

Sliding in her mobile chair by pushing off from her desk, she reached to collect the ruined booklet.

Dust was collected along the edges as she picked it up but she didn't bother to brush it off. Instead, she eyed a single speck of dust fly atop a book in her bookcase and her fingers immediately let go of the document.

"Baaabies~," Jibril cooed, pressing her body against the book case. "Mommy is here. I'll clean you guys up as soon as I finish reading _this_," she gestured to her homework document, "bad, bad stranger you guys should never associate yourselves with, okay?"

Creak.

The bedroom door opened a crack, the head of an older female with grayish green hair peeping. Her heterochromatic eyes, pale blue and bright hazel, shone half with amusement and half with disgust.

"My imouto-chan is so disgusting," she cooed, "even though she has the body of a demigoddess and beauty that's second only to _me_, she spends her free time cooped up with books. Shame, shame."

Jibril stared at her intruder with horror, pressing her body closer to the bookcase as though she were its protector. "Babies, don't listen to that disgusting woman and besides—"

She ran a hand through her illustrious pink hair, bearing the teeth of a preying untamed animal. "—intelligence is _sexy_, Azriel nee-chan."

A pregnant silence fell in between them before Azriel broke it, laughing hysterically at her younger sister's ridiculous pose. Jibril sensed the reason for her laughter, suppressing the urge to pull her sister's hair. She loved her sister but there were times she just wished to _strangle_ her. It was times like these that tested her patience as the younger sibling; she was often at the butt of Azriel's jokes when her older sister was bored.

And somehow—

"—older siblings are right even when it doesn't make sense," Jibril thought bitterly, waiting for Azriel's laughter to subside.

When the older female finally stopped, she brushed a tear. "You're always so dramatic for no reason," she chided. Amusement vanished from her face. "But it's not intelligence I'm criticizing you for. It's your arrogance."

"What?" Jibril frowned, tilting her head at her sister's clarification—if it could even be considered one. "What do you mean by that?"

"Who knows~" Deciding of all times to disappear, Azriel made one final wave, as though they have reached the end of a magic show, and ran off. Jibril was left staring at the empty space where Azriel once stood before shaking off her sister's appearance.

She always loved getting under her skin by being cryptic and pushing the right buttons.

Jibril went back to caring her books: removing some books off the shelves, inspecting each page for any wrinkles or collected dust, and double checking that the books were all alphabetized properly.

A few good minutes of this passed until her phone lit up. Jibril picked up her phone to discover that she received a message from her friend.

"Hello Jibril!" Jibril snorted at the formality. It was so like her. "We're going shopping tomorrow and are wondering if you would like to join us."

Without giving a second thought, Jibril texted her answer back. "No thank you." _Is this a bit rude?_ As she was in the process of typing up her excuse, her phone vibrated in her hand.

"Oh, okay! I get it. No need to say anymore. –Fii."

Jibril reread the short message, feeling a bit odd by how curt her sentences were. Though soft spoken, Fii was a gentle girl who had a lot to say. _Did I offend her?_ She decided to type her excuse when the handheld vibrated again.

"I have to go now. Good night, Jibril. –Fii."

_Well. _That _was not awkward at all._ She threw her phone on her bed, jumping right beside it and laying on her back. It wasn't as though it was the first time she had declined her friends' offer to play. If she were to count, today marked the seventh time she had rejected this year. And not once did they seemed to have a problem with her avoidance of them. They knew it was just in her nature to barricade herself in books or other activities.

_So why did her message sound a bit..._frustrated_ this time? _Jibril racked her brain; Fii was the most tolerant one in her group. Despite the amount of conflict that came from facing a girl who pretty much had no opinion of her own, considering Jibril was all about having her own opinion, Jibril rather liked Fii.

While to the rest of the group Jibril gave vague reasons for her absence, to Fii Jibril was always specific about what she was doing: that she was either attending a book signing or obtaining the first copy of a brand new book. So it felt nice that for once Jibril had a viable excuse—to them—why she couldn't shop with them: she planned on waiting after school to see her crush.

Yes, yes, _yes._

Having been a bookworm all throughout her life, she had been the worry of many that she would never undergo the norms that the average teenage girl would experience. Part of that was true. She never did go to parties. She never did hang out with friends in her spare time.

But she, at the very least, accomplished the most important task a teenage girl should at her age—falling in love.

That was right. The amazing, intelligent and _beautiful_ Jibril had found a boy worthy enough to be her love interest.

Jibril giggled to herself at the thought.

He was perfect.

His short, sun kissed hair sparkled of moonlight under the light. His cerulean eyes gave away the limitless possibilities humans could choose to take in their lifetime. That uncertainty, that lack of structured order, that quintessential magic were what drew Jibril in about him.

That, and the fact that he resembled a bit like Tamaki Suoh from _Ouran High School Host Club_, a fictional character Jibril wished to date in real life.

"I want to be a shoujo heroine!" Her whispered declaration gave her a sense of urgency, a time limit to an otherwise purposeless goal. She hardly knew and saw her crush but in that fleeting moment when she first met him—first grew _feelings_ for him—she knew he, it, was something special.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Shaken from her thoughts, Jibril turned the reminder, the source of the beeping, on her phone off and slapped her face to redirect her thoughts from unnecessary topics. "Studies first! Love later!"

Abandoning her phone and picking up her pen, Jibril went on enslaving herself over work due for classes she had the next day, letting hours tick by and the midnight blue sky turn into a yellow heavenly one.

—

She let out a huge yawn, belatedly covering her opened mouth when students passed by her. They conspicuously pointed and whispered to each other about her—probably about her uncouth behavior.

Jibril, though, didn't really care.

She shrugged their just as rude behavior off and carried her way, letting the little sleep she had last night lead her. Walking in a trancelike motion, Jibril searched for a familiar face among the students around her. She couldn't find anyone.

Strange. I usually see them right about now.

Jibril brushed the abnormality off as well, reaching her bag for the material she had read and prepared; she was determined to successfully win today's argument as she usually does. As she struggled to get out the papers which were most likely stuck between every other books and writing utensils she had hastily shoved in earlier that day, a couple to her right caught her eyes.

The couple consisted of a gangly red haired boy, whose face was boyishly cute if it weren't for the heavy bags under his eye, and a petite bleached blue haired girl, whose pale skin was unbelievably unblemished—Jibril thought _she _was the only one in her high school with flawless skin!

But it wasn't her pride being challenged which drew her attention towards the couple—though that was part of it—it was the way they talked to one another as though no one but them existed.

_Straight from a shoujo._ Jibril sighed, pressing a hand to her chest. It was a rather cute sight and if the bell hadn't rung that moment, she would've been content with walking slowly behind them, enjoying the view of two people taking their own time just to enjoy each other's company.

—

The classroom doorway came to her view when she halted in her tracks, Jibril backtracking the way she came from. It was strange. Perhaps it was because of her diligence as a student that she hadn't noticed but not once that day she bumped into her friends, let alone the entire group together.

Normally between classes they would all meet up by the vending machines: Kurami Zell would be complaining nonstop about the chattering boys in the back of the classroom, Fii Nilvalen would be comforting Kurami about how boys would be boys, and Izuna Hatsuse would be struggling about what drink to pick from the machine.

Today, however, she saw none of them and was a little worried. _Were they _all _absent?_ It seemed unlikely though, considering Kurami's superiority complex, Fii as Kurami's follower, and Izuna's obedience as a well performing student.

"Then where did they possibly go—ouch!" A book hit the top of her head; the person with the book gave Jibril a disappointing glare before heading for the classroom. "I won't tolerate cutting in my class, Ms. Flugel."

"Yes, sensei," Jibril muttered, following in after the teacher.

The class didn't go well for the rest of the period. During the class debate, she missed her chance to speak first, which was decisive and the time people paid most attention to. She realized she had gotten the wrong folder of information and passed her turn.

When she finally did speak up—as her class work grade that day depended on participating the debate at least twice—she stumbled for words. "Despite the names we put on certain types of love, romantic sibling love as incest or the love an adult has for a child as pedophilic, this only shows that love is boundless and comes in all different assortments. It shouldn't be judged."

It was crudely presented, her hunch told her. And it was confirmed as soon as Jibril was seated down and a hand shot up in the air.

"But what if different types of love, such as incest, come from judgments? If love is a product of people's perceptions, shouldn't it be okay to govern love with ethics?

All eyes turned to Jibril, who was rendered speechless. If she had come prepared with her arsenal of research, she could've refuted those questions easily. But all she had with her were a half filled sheet of loose leaf paper and a pen.

Reluctantly, she looked down at the table and muttered, "You make a good point that I haven't considered."

From the far off corner, the discerning 'tst' sound made by her teacher could be heard so clearly. Jibril didn't even try to picture the glaring red mark that would surely be printed on her evaluation paper.

—

Crouching by the shoe lockers and hiding by a pillar, Jibril snuck a peek for any signs of a blue eyed blonde boy. From what she had heard, the boy passed by this corridor to fetch his shoes by the end of the day on a daily basis. If what she heard was correct, he would be stopping by any second now. And then...

_I can 'accidentally' bump into him and we will have our chance meeting!_

Pleased with herself, Jibril drew out a compact mirror, quickly inspecting her reflections. Brushed hair, check. Clear skin, check. Pink lipstick, check. But...

She lifted her arm, bringing it close to her nose. A nameless odor filled her nostrils and she drew back, disgusted with herself for getting away with the terrible stench.

No matter. Jibril brought out a perfume bottle she had purchased the other day, shaking it before giving it a couple of squeeze.

"Ah, smells perf—"

Her grip on the perfume bottle loosened as someone's shoulder roughly collided into her back, sending her forward down onto the ground. The bottle fell as well, shattering into shards and spilling a small puddle. The world around her became a colorful blur and only until she blinked back the nausea did her vision and the realization that she was a mess returned.

She looked up to see her perpetrator already walking away.

"...shouldn't you apologize?" The person beside the perpetrator asked, her voice soft and dull. Jibril recognized her as part of the couple she saw briefly this morning. Deciding to let it go and placing her condition as part of her bad luck, Jibril began cleaning up until she heard—

"—nah, she looked crazy anyways."

He did _not_ say that.

Without a second thought, Jibril leapt forward and charged towards the two, giving the red haired, obnoxious boy a hard push.

He fell face flat and the girl next to him gasped, hovering over him quickly.

"Are you okay—"

Jibril grinned to herself, happy she had gotten her revenge. Plus, she could finally discover the names of this couple—

"—Sora nii-chan?"

Sora nii-chan? Brother? Standing quizzically, Jibril pondered at the girl's choice of words. If what she was hearing was true then...

"I'm fine," the boy grinned widely at the little girl, reaching up to pat her head. "Don't worry about me, my imouto."

...they were siblings.

Jibril cocked her head in utter confusion. But from the way they acted this morning, she could've sworn...

"Teto-san." At the sound of the name of her crush, she reflectively hid behind the wall, abandoning the shattered leftovers of a perfume bottle.

_Dammit, I wasn't supposed to hide but—_

—there was no way in hell she was going to be seen as a mess.

"Hey Shiro-chan! What's with Sora looking messy?"

"Just because—hey! Hey! Stop taking pictures of me!"

"Hehe, you should know me by now, Sora! Come on, let me take a good one."

"No! Shiro save me!"

As Jibril watched the scene unfold—a gangly red head trying to hide behind a petite blue haired girl and a laughing blonde demigod trying to capture the moment—an epiphany came to her.

The reason why the red haired boy, Sora and the blue haired girl, Shiro appeared as a couple. It was because—

"—he likes her." It was weird having the thought on the tip of her tongue and fall out as actual words. Weird, surreal. Not because she had discovered a real life siscon but because it tied in with what she was arguing earlier that day.

_"What if different types of love, such as incest, come from judgments? If love is a product of people's perceptions, shouldn't it be okay to govern love with ethics?"_

Her jaws tightened at the memory, and an idea came to her then: Blackmail him. Blackmail him that you would help him with pursuing his sister in exchange for help to hook up with Teto.

"Shiro-chan! Don't do it! Don't—"

The desperate wails of her crush died as the cracking sound of a camera breaking filled the air, the boy reduced to a comically sobbing mess. The person responsible for the crime turned to her brother who embraced her with glee.

"You're the best Shiro!"

And that confirmed it. Jibril couldn't. Not even at the cost of proving what she advocated correct. She slipped away before she was caught.

She couldn't ruin the delicate nature of such love—the deep yearning for something forbidden, something that was never meant to be.

* * *

Word Count: 2,771

* * *

A/N: I really shouldn't load myself with so many fanfics (yes, two fanfics are a lot), but I couldn't resist writing this one up.

I have done this concept for a FT fanfic but it works so much better as a NGNL one. Plus, I get to write about Sora/Jibril, which is, in my opinion, the perfect pairing. Sora/Shiro is still my OTP, don't get me wrong. It's the pairing that gives the heart what they want (because perfection isn't always the one people choose). Well, more on my opinion later.

So anyways, I hope you liked this first chapter. Thanks a lot for reading and hope to have your continued support. (: Be sure to look forward to future chapters!

Side note; I actually have no clue what's Azriel's, Jibril's sister, personality so if she's OOC, my bad!


	2. changes bring changes

_two: changes bring changes_

When she stepped into the cafeteria, a smell that was a mixture of piss and peppermint reached her nose. Jibril tried her best not to retch and not so subtly, sprayed herself with perfume that came in a plastic bottle. The place was noisy too, making any conversation almost defeating to hear. Students were way too clumped up right next to each other in order to carry a proper conversation but in the process of doing so, they exchanged body heat, filling the air with an indescribable gross type of warmth.

Jibril, in other words, hated eating in the cafeteria.

As she strolled down the aisles of tables, she turned her head this way and that for signs of anyone she knew—anyone she could sit with. Her sister's words about her using "her free time cooped up with books" came to her mind and she tried brushing them away in attempt to affirm that she did indeed have friends or, at the very least, people she could be with.

And she did; it was just they weren't at their usual spot in the back of school, where they would squeeze together on the bench under the cherry blossom tree. If the weather happened to be bad that day, they would escape to the school library, where her friends weren't currently there either.

She finally gave up searching the whole of school and decided to seat herself at an empty table closest to the vending machines when—

"—Kura—mi, you should eat your veggies as well as your sweets!"

"Ah, it's fine Fii! Stop fussing over me! Look at Izuani!"

"Izuani-desu's diet has always consisted of sweets, desu~"

She twirled around, her eyes heating and mind spinning with thoughts. Her friends—Fii, Kurami, Izuani—were all seated at a table near the center of the cafeteria. The center, where it was in the middle of the chaos of the cafeteria. They've always hated that so why—

Why are they there?

Without her even noticing, she approached the table. All noise at the table stopped when she came into their view and—

—so did her stupor.

"J-Jibril!" Fii paused in her wiping, the sugary stain on Kurami dripping onto her hand. "H-how are you—"

"—what are you doing here," Kurami cut, business-like as usual.

Her friend's—or perhaps ex-friend's—words sank in her, as Jibril asked herself the same question. Clearly they didn't want her there. Clearly they had been distancing themselves from her. If she had thought about how distant her friends were to her recently, it was only a matter of time something happened.

She should backtrack; make up some excuse to run away now. She's Jibril of course; she shouldn't put up with this sort of treatment even if she was in the wrong.

But just as she opened her mouth, the sight of someone different to her usual group of friends stilled her.

Poised with legs crossing on top of one another and hands touching the brim of her legs, a red haired girl sat in the middle of this.

She couldn't believe her eyes.

"Steph...anie..."

The name stumbled out from tongue like an old spell, buried only to be dug up when least expected. Or...at least...Jibril had never suspected she would see her again.

—

_"You're a demon!"_

"Wh-what?" The accused four year old was backed into a corner, bewilderment spilled her on face as she was barricaded by children around her. There were no room for escape.

A hand grabbed her elbow with a tightening grip.

"You did it! You did it!"

Her throat wouldn't let out anything, as everything, in the form of her playmates, enclosed in on her. Their harsh words stung her, leaving her mind a dizzying state.

"You're a freak!"

"You're so cruel!"

"You don't feel anything!"

Out of the corner of her eyes, a flicker of fiery red hair and cool blue eyes caught Jibril's attention. When she was about to call out for her, something happened.

In an almost inaudible volume, the girl whispered, "It's your_ fault. Not mine."_

—

"So, what are you up to?" Jibril bent down, leaning across the table to close the distance between her and Stephanie. "What are you doing here?"

"I don't know, you tell me," her challenging tone was nauseating, taunting for her to figure out the obvious. I'm stealing your friends obviously.

"Now, now, let's stop—" an arm waved in front of the two and very soon, Jibril was pulled backwards. Smiling brightly, Fii faced Jibril with an expression that nothing was out of the ordinary.

Was Fii always _this_ annoying despite being nice?

"Jibril, I'm going to have to ask you to leave now."

"What?" She said it, stupidly; as though she hadn't gotten the message that she wasn't wanted. "I should leave? Why—"

"—because you're not wanted," Stephanie obnoxiously intervened and Jibril threw a glare at her.

"So," she was incredulous, borderline hysteric, "you mean to say—I'm replaced by her?"

Without anyone's response, she laughed, shoulders rolling and tears forming. It was the most hilarious joke she had—

"—yes, you are _desu_." The voice belonged to soft spoken Izuna, who usually kept to herself. Her eyes were animalistic, predatory. As though she was tired of all the dilly dallying. Jibril blinked back the stupor and nodded, fervently.

"Alright," she started to walk away, not meeting the smug glint glowing in Stephanie's eyes. "Alright. I'll leave. I'll leave."

To say she felt betrayed and lost was a complete lie. Rather than those depressing emotions, Jibril was annoyed and pissed. There was nothing more aggravating than having your friends whisked away by someone you loathed without your notice—let alone you actually finding out.

"Bitches," Jibril muttered, "they're just bitches."

No matter how much she told herself that lie, she couldn't comfort herself with it. It hurt, it hurt, it _hurt_.

She sat herself in the only available table she could find, feeling tears well in her eyes.

_Fuck, don't cry. Not now. Not for them._

Just as a chock readied to escape her trembling lips, Jibril heard something familiar. Sitting at a nearby table, a red haired boy and a white haired girl were engaged in a loud but busy conversation.

Stilled in her sorrows, Jibril squinted to make them out.

Funnily enough, they were alone, sitting with bright smiles on faces—the boy's more than the girl's—and enjoying the food laid out before them.

No one saw them together. How could they when such a scene was typical and boring? It made single people cry.

But Jibril was there to witness this and catch all the little moments. The way the boy blushed when their fingers touched. The way the boy reacted urgently when the girl spilled juice on herself. The way he looked at her with utter compassion and love enough to melt an entire romance novel into butter—

_"What if different types of love, such as incest, come from judgments? If love is a product of people's perceptions, shouldn't it be okay to govern love with ethics?"__Blackmail him. Blackmail him. Blackmail him. Blackmail him._

The girl squeezed her eyes shut, letting the tears roll down and wiping them off thereafter. She blew her nose and ran a hand through her hair, resolve filling her mind.

_Forget them. Forget them._

"Alright," Jibril got up, "let's do this."

—

To the untrained eyes, there were no reactions.

When Jibril plopped down, the suggestive distance between her and him, neither the boy nor the girl stopped speaking. But there was a subtle shift in tone, the way their unrestrained happiness turned into caution. It was a fleeting transition but glaringly obvious in the boy's reaction which Jibril took note of as she 'joined' them.

"...and she glared at me, Shiro!"

"Nii, that's your fault."

"Why is that my fault? I just asked her the time!"

"...is that all?"

"W-well...I...did ask for her...sizes..."

"As I knew, nii is a pervert."

And the conversation went on. It was sickening how carefree their exchange was and how adoringly the brother's expression was. Maybe she was speaking from a single person's point of view, but she wished there was a law banning public displays of affections because this was just too damn unfair.

_Save your flirting someplace else!_

Jibril sighed, again going unnoticed by the two. With nothing else to do, she scanned the little girl, Shiro. She was pretty, in a doll like way. With her milky white skin and platinum blue hair which trickled down to her ankles, she appeared almost like a fairy. She was a holy angel from above.

No wonder her brother fell for her, disgusting as it might be.

"...what is your type anyways, nii?"

Shaken from her stupor, Jibril decided her move.

"Oi~" putting a gutter in their lively talk, her first spoken word startled the two. They looked at her with bewildered expressions—especially the boy's. Was he suspecting something?

She smiled to herself. If he did, it was all the better. This could get rather interesting.

"So I couldn't help but hear," she crossed her legs, leaning in towards them, "that you want to know your brother's tastes." She grinned, facing more towards the boy than the person she was answering to. The fact that he now sported an uncomfortable expression, which contrasted his relaxed one from before, was amusing to her.

How could one look so upset in such a short span of time?

"He likes fair skinned, unusual colored haired girls."

She caught him twitching slightly, as he probably understood her vague description.

Just as the little girl opened her mouth, the boy intervened.

"Shiro, don't listen to her." His stare was steely, trained on hers so to trap her. She didn't mind though. It was more fun this way. "She's just a stranger who's bugging us."

"A stranger? You're mistaken," she chirped. "I'm an ally. Your ally. I support you in your..._strange_ affections."

Her emphasis had a definite effect on him, with the way his eyes grew large and mouth let out a barely audible gasp. Jibril hardly believed the impact she had on him.

This is too much fun.

"Well," he spoke dryly, "I find it hard for a bookworm to support anyone."

She felt herself withdraw back, unblinking. She didn't know him before yesterday so he most likely didn't know her. How the hell would he know what she was like?

The shock visibly displayed on her face, eliciting satisfaction on the boy's. His smug appearance said it all.

_"Checkmate."__  
_  
"Nii," the youngest looking member of the table finally intervened, her lifeless hazel eyes flickering from her and the boy. "...is she...your girlfriend?"

"What?!" Jibril and the boy yelped in unison. As the boy frantically explained to his sister—that no, no they were not an item—chills prickled throughout her body and a sense of disappointment came to her.

"What does he mean what?" She frowned, looking back at the sibling duo who was still engaged in a series of questionings and explanations. "It's normal for _me_ to say what because look at him...but _him_?!"

_Then again, liking your sister could blind your tastes._

Content with her reasoning, Jibril readied to continue teasing the brother when she was suddenly pulled away from the table in one sweep.

"Come on," her captor said, his expression glum. "We're going to talk. Alone."

"Eh? What?" She looked back at the table, the abandoned girl staring blankly at her before waving and sending her a 'fight on' sign. "_Nooo! Let me go!_"

—

"They always say to beware of the quiet ones," he sighed, leaning against a wall. "Who knew it was true?"

He had finally stopped dragging her around when he couldn't take her thrashing and complaining any longer. The fact that he lasted long enough to gain a reputation was stunning to Jibril, if a little bit admirable. What lengths would this boy go through preserve his deep, dark secret?

She glanced around their destination: an unused, outdoor staircase on the fifth floor which students hardly used due to the inconvenience of getting to it and how it basically led to nowhere. Basically, it was useless.

She turned back to the boy who was gazed straight at her. She stumbled back a bit.

"Wh-what is it?"

"Bookworm," the way he said it made her recoil, the very term defaming her instantly. He knew this, his gaze unchanging and unapologetic. "Do you _know_ who you're messing with?"

"Do you?" She was quacking, nervous but she sure as hell would let _him_ of all people know. To think she planned on helping him. _This is what you get for being nice._

"Did _you_ forget who you're messing with?

Silence filled the air between them, not a word exchanged between them. Sensing that she wasn't going to give up, the boy sighed.

"What do you want?"

Jibril blinked. She was surprised. The boy, who hid a dark secret and most likely many more, gave in so quickly. Well, never mind. She stretched out an offering hand.

"Your name?"

After staring at the hand for a few seconds, the boy finally accepted it. "Sora Nai," he gave it a firm pump. "Yours?"

"Bookworm," she replied coolly, producing the smallest of smile on his face. "Jibril. Jibril Flugel."

"So Jibril," traces of smile vanished from his visage as Sora released her hand. "What do you want?"

"I want to help you."

"Really? Help what? Tell me."

He was humoring her which grated her nerves. She was just about to snap at him when she noticed a flicker of hurt behind his hardened eyes and swallowed. _It must be hard for him. It has to be…because…_

"_If love is a product of people's perceptions, shouldn't it be okay to govern love with ethics?"_

"I'm supporting the forbidden love between siblings, that's all."

The boy sighed, shaking his head and rubbing his forehead. "Look, I don't know _how_ you found out but, bookworm—"

"—_Jibril_."

"_Jibril_. If _anything_ happens to Shiro, I won't stay still and—"

"—you'll what?" Jibril couldn't take it anymore. Sure, she knew she was literally destroying something precious, something taboo. But she assumed that a person wouldn't be _this_ damn stubborn. "—did _you_ not realize your situation and who has the upper hand here?"

"Are you…" he raised his head in disbelief, "…_blackmailing_ me?"

"Congratulations. I'm glad you caught on so quickly," she said mockingly. Her eyes darkened. "You're damned right I am."

His shoulders noticeably twitched and he tensed. "Fine. I'll do anything. As long as you keep it a secret."

"Oh don't worry. I'll do _more_ than just keep it a secret. I'll help you with your relationship."

"Really now?" He scoffed, leaning into a slouch. His gangly body hovered over hers, despite their not-so-large height gap. "Why would I need _your_ help."

"I…" She looked to the side, trying to maximize the distance between her face and his. "…can befriend Shiro…get the know-how between girls that guys can't get. There are after all," she winked. "Things only girls can share."

Sora straightens back up, tapping his chin thoughtfully. After assessing what she pointed out, he asked, "Why are you helping me? You don't have to go this far."

"_Whaaaat_?" She pouted. "Are you _denying_ my goodwill here? Why on _earth_ would you say that?"

"Because," his body inclined dangerously against the railing, exposing his hair in the blowing wind. His scarlet hair swept wildly around his face as he spoke. "You feel just like me. You're arrogant."

"_But it's not intelligence I'm criticizing you for. It's your arrogance."_

She bristled; face heating up as she matched up Sora's description of her with her sister's. _What the hell does that even _mean_?!_

"At least I'm not sibling-zoned."

"H-hey! Why did you bring _that_ up?" He was reddening, arms flailing to cover the redness. Big. Epic. _Fail._ "A-am not! Don't put it that way! It sounds—"

"—gross? It's 'cause you totally are gross," Jibril stated, matter-of-factly.

"Says the person who supports it."

"Don't diss my kindness!"

They sported matching scowls, desperately waiting for the lunch dismissal bell to ring so that they could finally, _finally_ be rid of each other. But Jibril still didn't get to state her _main_ intentions.

"Fine, fine," she surrendered, capturing Sora's wary attention. "I actually _do_ have an ulterior motive."

Never before did she want to kill someone more than the moment Sora gave her the most incredulous stare she had ever seen.

_Fuck myself for telling him. And fuck him._

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Word Count: 2775

* * *

A/N: You guys have no idea how long this chapter took me to write. So bothersome and _so _boring. At least, it was so boring for me to write. I really hope it doesn't show in my writing.

Anyways, the ending may have been a bit abrupt but I was just so done with it. I still need to update my other fanfic, _Forgetting to Remember_ (please read that if you have time! Yes, I'm shamefully self-advertising here, hah). QQ

Ending off, I'm so glad you've managed to last this far and hope to have your continued support! Let me know what you think in your reviews and thanks for all the favorites/follows!


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